Zach narrowed his brow at Dante’s response. He did mind? What kind of answer was that? Before he could even respond, the larger man took Zach by the collar and dragged him off to the side of the building. Zach was too stunned to do anything at first, not coming to his senses until his back hit the wall and his face scrunched up into a look of repugnance. He grabbed Dante’s hand and tried to yank it away from his collar, glaring at the other man with all of the fury he felt from being pulled around like a damn dog.

He shoved at the other man next, though it wasn’t to much avail. It didn’t mean he was just going to stand around and be treated like this, though. “What the fuck is your problem?” Zach swore aloud, which was his version of let him go, you crazy asshole. The confusion in the younger man’s eyes was as clear as day. He and Dante had nothing to talk about, and he couldn’t imagine for the life of him what Dante thought they needed to talk about. It wasn’t like they were friends, and as far as Zach knew, they hadn’t been enemies either. So, why the hell was Dante grabbing him and slamming him against a wall out of nowhere?

Zach wanted answers, but more importantly, he wanted Dante’s hands off of him.